


Brooklyn After Dark

by darefanny



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Steve Rogers, Crossdressing, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Gags, M/M, Oral Sex, Pec Fucking, Praise Kink, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Sub Steve Rogers, Top Tony Stark, Whipping, c'mon that kink was invented for steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darefanny/pseuds/darefanny
Summary: ”I could do that”, Steve had said before his brain could catch up to his big, stupid mouth. He had leaned over Tony’s shoulder to look closer at a photo of a man in lingerie on his tablet.11k words of Tony taking Steve to the wonderland of escape.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 82





	Brooklyn After Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first stony fic I ever started. Lord knows why crossdressing came so easily with these two, since I've never written it before, but it did. This got forgotten for months, but last week I decided to get back to this. This grew into a monster of a PWP as it went from being some crossdress fun to a borderline character study. I have no self-control when it comes to Steve Rogers and someone should probably stop me. As no one seems to be coming for now, though, have another Steve-centric fic from me while we wait.
> 
> A shoutout and a million thanks to [Vehka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vehka) for beta reading this big boi <3
> 
> This is also a kink bingo fill and effectively crosses off "humiliation/degradation", "crossdress", "dom/sub", "praise", "dirty talk", "bondage", "dom/sub" and "impact play". :'D

”I could do that”, Steve had said before his brain could catch up to his big, stupid mouth. He had leaned over Tony’s shoulder to look closer at a photo of a man in lingerie on his tablet. 

It wasn’t porn, it was an ad for a perfume, but Tony had made the mistake of staring at it for a little too long. 

”No, you couldn’t”, Tony had chuckled. ”You’re Captain America, the traditional, masculine idol of the nation. Though, many wouldn’t believe what a –” He’d stopped, turning to stare at Steve over his shoulder as realisation slowly hit him. ”Wait – you’re serious?”

***

And that’s the simple story of how Steve has ended up here in their bathroom, trying to fit his legs into thin, white stockings, his face so hot you could’ve fried an egg on it. He already has a red corset on – how the hell he’d managed that by himself will be something for future generations to debate over, or would be if they ever found out, which will happen over Steve’s dead body. The corset is accompanied by a short, blue skirt and underneath it, white, lacy strings. It’s his colours all right, and Steve still isn’t sure if Tony had picked them more out of preference or simply for his amusement. 

Steve clicks the garters in place and stands up, taking a look at himself in the mirror. The sight is jarring, and Steve has to run his hand across his face and sigh before trying again.

It’s not that the act of wearing lingerie and the rest of it is appalling to him in itself, or he probably never would’ve uttered out those words that led him here. Honestly, it’s hotter than Steve thinks it has any right to be, even more so because of the effect – he hopes – it will have on Tony. He’s just not that into actually seeing himself like this. 

But Steve forces himself to take another look. He can’t go out there and present himself to Tony while feeling like he’ll die of embarrassment. Confidence is sexy, he reminds himself. 

He tries to study the outfit with a practical eye. At least everything looks like it fits. Feels too, he guesses, if he ignores the inherent strangeness of it. But nothing’s bursting out where it shouldn’t be or looking like it’s about to rip apart. He turns to check the backside, and that’s when he first gets an idea of how this look could be considered flattering on him. The skirt is just long enough to cover his ass, teasing what’s hidden underneath quite nicely, if he says so himself. The way the corset laces travel over his back doesn’t look too bad either. 

Okay, Steve thinks, taking a deep breath. Time to rock the world of one Tony Stark. 

He enters the dim bedroom, a little unsure of how he should be moving. He’s not going to swing his ass around femininely, but he tries to avoid the most obvious ”the man in control” posture too. 

Tony’s sitting on the bed, scrolling his tablet, which he puts away at the sight of his provocatively dressed lover. 

”Christ, Steve”, he breathes out, and Steve can _hear_ him smirk. 

”Are you laughing?” Steve asks, the corners of his own lips twitching upwards. 

”No”, Tony answers, and suddenly he really doesn’t sound like he is. ”No, I’m not.”

Steve makes a move towards the bed, but Tony’s voice stops him. ”Stay there for a while.”

He walks up to Steve, beginning to circle him slowly like a shark.

”Fuck”, he mutters, reaching to draw a finger over the laces across Steve’s back. Steve shivers, and Tony notices it, making a little questioning sound at him. Then he yanks the corset hard enough for Steve to lose his balance a bit, to make his back press against Tony’s chest. Tony brings a hand around him, breathes onto his neck. 

”Sweetheart”, he says, his fingers finding their way up to Steve’s throat, sliding along its sensitive skin softly. ”It’s lovely.” 

Steve can feel Tony’s breath in his ear, and his legs are already ready to give in. What Tony says next surely doesn’t help. 

”Should we play a little?”

God, Steve knows very well what that means and oh how he has been waiting for it. He leans his head back a little, enjoying the way Tony’s beard rubs against his cheek. 

”Yes”, he says, giving a tiny, slightly nervous laugh. ”Please.” 

Tony gives his exposed neck a few kisses, so light and teasing it makes Steve grind his hips backwards against Tony. 

”All right, honey. You know the rules”, Tony tells him tenderly. 

Steve doesn’t bother to confirm, of course he knows. Demonstrating that, he fixes his posture and looks down to the floor, expectant. Tony stands before him and reaches to tilt his chin up with a finger, but Steve keeps his eyes off of him. 

”Look at me”, Tony says, his voice still soft. 

There’s a hint of a smile in Steve’s eyes as he obeys. 

”Good. You’re allowed to look. Keep those pretty eyes on me for now.”

Steve nods. Tony caresses his cheek, his eyes subtly turning darker. 

”On your knees”, he tells him. 

Swallowing, Steve complies, lowering himself down, his eyes never leaving Tony’s. His first assumption that he’s getting Tony’s cock into his mouth makes him perfectly happy, but apparently, it’s not what Tony has planned. Instead, he leaves Steve and sits back on the bed. 

”Come here.”

Since he’s been ordered to his knees, Steve assumes that he’s meant to crawl, so that’s what he does. His eyes are fixed on Tony as he slowly makes his way toward the bed, and it should feel silly, but it doesn’t. There’s something about Tony, about his energy when they play like this, that commands the whole room so effortlessly and elegantly. It doesn’t leave much room for Steve to feel embarrassed. 

Tony watches him, a familiar, dominant but fond look on his face. When Steve’s within his reach, he strokes his hair, and Steve can’t help rubbing his face against Tony’s leg affectionately. It’s so instinctive that for a second he forgets the rules, the ones that forbid any touching on his part without a permission. 

”I’m sorry, honey”, Tony tells him, and it almost sounds like he means it. ”You’re already breaking the rules. You know what that means, right?” 

Steve looks up to meet his eyes, nodding. He’s not entirely sorry himself, and Tony can probably pick that up from his expression. 

”What?” Tony asks, a hint of harshness creeping into his voice.

”I’m sorry, sir”, Steve says quickly. He’s meant to say that when he makes a mistake, and ”thank you, sir” after he gets a punishment or a reward. Other than that, he only speaks when he’s asked to. 

”I know you are. Now, get up here.” 

As Steve tries to crawl onto the bed, he’s pulled down so that he ends up face against the mattress, and more importantly, over the knee on Tony’s lap. He inhales sharply, this time quite sure he’s guessing right what’s coming, and tries to relax despite the anticipation bubbling under his skin. How was this called a “punishment”, exactly?

Tony takes his time. His fingers are admiring the laces of the corset again, and he begins to untie it leisurely from the bottom, pulling the strings open so delicately Steve can hardly feel his fingers working there. It only makes it more delicious whenever Tony’s digits brush against his skin, his body humming at the touch. Slowly, he can feel the corset start to ease its pressure around him, his breathing freeing, and he’s grateful for it, if not a little surprised that Tony would see it gone so quickly. 

Sure enough, halfway through Tony stops, coaxing his palm between the still tied part of the corset and Steve’s upper back. 

“You’d like to get this off, wouldn’t you?” he asks. 

Steve doesn’t have to think for his answer, and there’s relief in that. That’s a big part of why he likes this, submitting himself in this way and becoming an object for Tony to do however he likes with. There are deeper reasons beyond it, ones that could say an awful lot about Steve, but he doesn’t need to think them now. It’s good this way, simple. 

No giving orders, no constant alertness, no shouting, no chaos. Just peace. 

“Whatever you want, sir.”

“I want you to count”, Tony says, gripping the laces so tight it almost makes Steve’s chest part from the mattress. Tony’s other hand finds the crook of Steve’s ass underneath the skirt, and Steve hears him hiss from between his teeth as he moves his hand across the curve, the hem of the skirt sliding up. For a moment he just caresses Steve’s ass, then palms it roughly. Steve’s breath hitches and it takes all of his self-control not to grind against Tony’s lap. 

Then Tony isn’t touching his ass anymore, and then he is, with enough force that the sound of the impact echoes in the room.

“One”, Steve says after Tony’s palm lands on his flesh. He’s still gripping Steve’s corset, holding him in place, and Steve’s body sort of wants to struggle against it. Wants, but doesn’t. Tony’s palm hits him again. 

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

It goes on like that until Steve’s forehead is damp with sweat, his cock swollen against Tony’s thigh. He’s counted to thirty, and that’s enough to make his ass scream with red, even if it will only stay for a while. His breath has grown short, and he’s starting to remember the part that is punishment in this. But he has stayed still, and relatively silent. 

“Good”, Tony murmurs, steadying his hand and admiring the lines of the red marks his hand has left on Steve’s bottom. Tony’s voice is pure sugar to Steve’s ears and he wants to push up against his hand so bad, but he settles on simply looking at Tony from behind his half-lidded eyes. Tony catches his eyes and lets go of the corset he’s still been holding tightly, petting his hair instead. 

“Thank you, sir”, Steve says, not just because he’s supposed to, but because he means it. For a fleeing second he can see in Tony’s eyes that he wants to just be soft, but then he spanks Steve again, hard and unforgiving. Steve’s face melts in pure adoration. 

Tony holds his eyes, massaging the flesh he’s abused. Then his fingers curl around the back of Steve’s strings, pulling them back with his brow slightly raised at Steve, whose mouth falls open at the sensation of how the act is tightening the frontside of the underwear against his erection. Once he’s pulled it far enough Tony lets go of the fabric, and it hits against Steve’s skin, striking his balls painfully. Steve lets out a strained sound, unable to control how his ass rises up, offering itself.

”I’m tying you up, princess”, Tony informs him, ignoring the outright slutty motions of Steve’s lower body. ”Lay down on your stomach.” 

Steve gathers himself obediently and does as told while Tony stands up, ridding himself of his jeans. Just hearing the click of his belt makes Steve’s mouth water, but he knows better than to beg. 

Tony takes the wrists Steve eagerly presents and clicks the handcuffs attached to the headboard around them. They’re hardly your typical pair of handcuffs, they’re much nicer and much more difficult to get out of than regular ones, even with super soldier strength. Of course, to Tony they open up with a couple of words. 

Tony straddles his back, and the warmth of his thighs feels like safety against Steve’s skin, and when Tony leans down and tastes Steve’s neck it’s even better. 

”Look at you”, Tony purrs, stroking his tied arms, his shoulders, his hair. Then he takes hold of the corset with both of his hands and _rips_ the rest of it open, the sound of the fabric ripping sending all of the blood in Steve’s body rushing to his groin. 

The audacity; Tony paying an absurd amount of money for a handmade custom corset just to _destroy it_ would make Steve laugh if he wasn’t occupied with gasping. But he is, and for a while he doesn’t register much, just focuses on keeping himself in line. 

There’s the click of a bottle being opened, and an excited sound already leaves Steve’s throat before he realizes that it’s not lube. It’s massage oil, he can smell it. 

”All in good time, honey”, Tony tells him, noticing his brief misunderstanding. He warms the liquid in his hands and then begins to massage Steve’s back, uncaring of how the dripping oil will probably give the corset its final death blow. 

He works through the muscles in Steve’s upper back, runs his palm along his spine, presses his fingers into his neck. It’s not what Steve had hoped for at first, but soon, he finds himself relaxing, lets his eyes fall closed and just concentrates on breathing. 

”That’s it”, Tony says, his hands slowly moving lower, pressing those sweet spots that send signals all the way down to Steve’s toes. ”Just relax, baby. When I’m finished you’ll be nothing but a rag doll. Then” – his thumb brushes under the line of the skirt like on accident – ”and only then, I will slip my cock under that skirt and fuck you like the sweet slut you are.” 

Hearing this, Steve’s pretty sure he can feel his cock escape the tiny underwear he’s wearing, finally growing too large for it. But he uses all of his might to ignore it, tries to relax like Tony has told him to. 

Tony continues to massage his lower back, and slowly but surely, he’s starting to melt Steve. Sure, Steve’s cock is still desperately hard underneath him, but he’s not thinking about it. He’s just lying there, feeling all of the pleasure but ignoring how it prompts his body to react. It’s almost meditative, in an ecstatic sort of way. 

”Good”, Tony praises him again, pleased. ”Turn around.”

The handcuffs are also nice in a way that allows Steve to change from his stomach onto his back without twisting his wrists. Tony straddles him again, and Steve exhales shakily through his nose as Tony’s weight presses against his erection, but he manages to stall his hips. 

”Let’s throw this away so it won’t bother you”, Tony says, pulling at the ruined corset that’s still trapped underneath Steve. Steve closes his eyes and _breathes, breathes, breathes,_ as he’s forced to lift his body, including his hips, under Tony, to free the corset from under his weight. 

He almost, almost does it, but then Tony grinds against him and Steve’s hips buck in response. 

”That’s not fair”, Steve breathes out in a small voice, and goddamn it he’s stupid. Tony probably would’ve overlooked his out of control hips, but now he’s not only talked without permission, but talked _back_. Why doesn’t he just go ahead and break out of the cuffs and ride Tony’s dick into the sunset right away if he’s having this much trouble keeping up with a few basic rules?

”Uh-oh”, Tony says, tossing the corset away. 

”I’m sorry, sir”, Steve tells him, knowing already that another punishment is heading his way. It could be good, but there were ”bad” punishments too. Steve has agreed to all of them, of course, because the mere possibility, the fear of them makes him dizzy with lust. 

”Are you sorry? Or do you think this is not _fair_?”

It’s not fair, Steve thinks, but not the stupid fact that Tony made his hips buck involuntarily. Tony is being so good to him and he’s behaving badly. 

”I’m sorry, sir. Please”, he says again. ”I’m sorry.”

”Okay.” Tony presses a finger to Steve’s lips. ”Now you’re becoming very talkative, and that’s not how I remember us agreeing on the rules.” 

He reaches to the nightstand, and Steve can’t say that he’s surprised to see a ball gag produced from the drawer. 

That’s not bad, as punishments go. The one with a small dildo on it could grow uncomfortable pretty quickly, but this wasn’t even that one, just a normal ball gag. In Steve’s opinion, he would’ve deserved the one with the dildo, that would’ve been fair. Tony’s practically being a saint. 

The saint is obviously pleased when Steve lifts his head and makes it easy for him to tighten the strap around his neck. He tries the fit with his finger, his eyes landing on Steve’s. 

”Okay?” 

Steve nods, swallowing around the ball in his mouth, and Tony leans back, taking in the sight. ”I should take pictures of you.”

Steve’s first instinct is to aggressively shake his head, but he doesn’t. He could if he really wanted to, but he prefers to not really have his own will exist in this world. Only Tony’s, and Tony can take pictures of him gagged and tied, wearing lingerie and a skirt, if he likes. In fact, Steve’s not entirely sure if he has allowed that or not, but he knows that Tony knows. 

”I mean, let me be honest, sweetie. You really, really look like a whore”, Tony says, and he sounds almost like he’s pitying him, but in the way of someone who’s giving their steak a conscious thought before stuffing it right into their mouth. 

”Do you like that? Is that why you offered to dress like this?”

Steve nods. In all honesty, he’s not sure. He’d wanted to please Tony. For Tony, he’d look like a whore even if he wouldn’t be that into it, but it has turned out that he is. This isn’t really the first time – even though it hasn’t included lingerie before – and surely not the last either. 

Tony gives him an amused kind of predatory look, and then he’s near Steve again, pulling his hair lightly and whispering into his ear. 

“Do you have any idea how hard you’re making me?” His lower half slides against Steve in demonstration, and Steve lets out a muffled sound around the gag at the sensation of Tony’s cock pushing against his own. Tony grins wildly at him and takes his shirt off, then mouths Steve’s ear, continuing to grind against him slowly. 

It’s pure torture trying not to respond to his movements. Steve tries to take a calming breath, but Tony’s scent is all around him, never-mind the tongue in his ear, and it’s no use. Steve squirms, breathing heavily, and the ball in his mouth is on the way, drool escaping from the corners of his mouth. 

Then Tony has the massage oil in his hands again, and he pours a generous amount of it on his hands, coating Steve’s chest with it. Steve’s not sure where this is going but it’s already feeling extremely dirty, and as Tony begins to massage his slippery chest, he shuts his eyes, his cheeks warming. It feels good, though, like he’s being completely dismissed as a person for a moment and just toyed with. 

”You know what I’m going to do?” Tony pinches his nipples roughly, making Steve jolt, and when he starts to fondle them Steve’s back arches off the bed at how good it feels. He moans, eyes fluttering open to see Tony smiling at him slyly. 

”Since you’ve gone through all this trouble to dress up for me”, his silky voice continues as he stands up and takes off his underwear, ”I’m going to fuck you…”, he straddles Steve’s chest, and Steve can’t decide whether to listen or to stare at Tony’s cock, the cock Tony gives a few lazy pumps and then brings between Steve’s pecs. “… right here.” 

Steve’s eyes flick up to Tony’s face at the realization, his cheeks flaming. He’s going to get titty-fucked. While wearing a skirt. And stockings. And –

”Hm? How’s that, baby?” Tony’s eyes are drilling into Steve’s as he slides against him, squeezing his pecs around his cock, using his own hands to cover for the part Steve’s pecs won’t reach. 

Steve’s mind shuts out completely for a second. He’s absolutely mortified, and at the same time, it’s too glorious to be real. The only thing he’s positive of is that his face has gone completely red. 

Tony stops to add more oil, then sighs blissfully at how easily his cock moves against Steve’s chest. He’s radiating pure control over Steve, not hiding a bit of how much he’s enjoying this. 

“Tell me, Steve”, he says. ”Do you like this?”

Being forced to speak with the gag on puts the cherry on top of Steve’s humiliation. He sucks, trying to swallow as much spit from his mouth as possible. 

”Yeh, ’ir”, he struggles, drool dripping down his jaw despite his efforts. His eyes land on Tony’s cock again, and he can’t not look at it, the way it’s moving, the tip of it vanishing between his pecs and Tony’s hand and appearing again in a steady rhythm, making slick noises against his slippery chest. Steve’s hips want to move in rhythm with it even if they have nothing to gain from it, and he can’t stop them from pushing into the air desperately, uselessly. 

Tony closes his eyes, not giving his desperation any attention. 

”Ahh fuck, that’s good”, he says to himself, indulging. 

Steve knows that he’s ignoring him on purpose but that doesn’t stop it from working. He watches Tony, how pleasure settles onto his face, and his body demands to be a part of it, to have the cock on his chest inside of him instead. His brows knit together helplessly as he stares at it, eyes dark from lust. 

Needy noises begin to leave his throat, and that’s when Tony slaps his left pec, not too hard but hard enough for it to sting. 

”Shh”, he says, continuing his thrusts, not opening his eyes. He knows there’s no real alarm; there’s a more sophisticated string of sounds for that that they’ve agreed on. 

Steve tries, he really does, but before long another noise leaves him, and Tony slaps him again, this time to the other side, and much, much harder. 

”Another noise and I’m unloading myself to your face and leaving you with nothing.”

No. _Absolutely no_. Tony wouldn’t, right? He is a saint, after all. Still, Steve has no intention to risk it, so he closes his eyes and thinks of nothing, of anything, until Tony’s voice calls him back to reality. 

”That’s very good.”

Steve opens his eyes at the sensation of a gentle hand in his hair. Then another hand comes up to his face and removes the gag, leaving it loose around his neck. Steve licks his lips, the feeling of being free from the gag always weird at first. His mouth really doesn’t have to get used to being empty though, because Tony pushes his cock against his lips, and Steve opens his mouth eagerly, feeling like this way he has at least something to take his mind off of his own need. 

He lets Tony fill his mouth and then sucks around the warm member. Steve loves the feeling of Tony’s cock in his mouth, and he shows it by swirling his tongue around it fondly, by sucking it softly like he’s tasting his favourite thing in the world. 

Then Tony begins to move, and since he’s tied, Steve can’t really do much besides trying to make his mouth the best place for a cock to slide into. Tony cups his jaw, going slow at first, his lips slightly parted as he watches his cock move in and out of Steve’s mouth. Then he catches Steve’s eyes and Steve’s heart skips a beat at how soft the expression on his face is. Steve would give anything to always have Tony look at him like that, and his own eyes light up in such obvious worship that Tony chuckles a little, almost like he’s embarrassed. 

Tony pushes some wild strands from Steve’s face, giving his hair a final pet before quickening his movements, beginning to fuck his mouth more roughly. He holds the back of Steve’s head and brings force to his thrusts. 

Steve relaxes his throat, and as Tony’s cock sinks deeper into his mouth, he closes his eyes, concentrates on breathing through his nose. Tony’s cock hits the back of his throat, again and again, and Steve can feel his eyes starting to water, his pulse rising, breathing becoming challenging. Before he can really start to feel much more than mild discomfort, though, Tony stops. He’s breathing hard, looking at Steve, quite obviously checking his state. Steve pulls a much-needed breath, but then closes his lips around Tony’s cock again, lifting his head to suck it deeper into his mouth again. 

”Easy”, Tony says breathlessly, stilling Steve by gripping his hair gently. ”You’re gonna make me come if you do that.”

It’s a sure-fire way to make Steve stop, and he rests his head back down, letting Tony pull out of his mouth and take a breath too. 

”Thank you, sir”, he offers. He’s not sure if the gag-punishment is over, but he could be thanking for the use of his mouth, right? He just wants to say it, and it’s one of his remaining rights. 

”Yes”, Tony simply agrees, bringing his hands to Steve’s neck and removing the gag from around it, his voice turning a little cheeky when he adds: ”You’re welcome.”

He shifts his body so that he’s able to bring his lips to Steve’s, to whom a kiss after the pain and teasing feels like life itself being breathed into him. Steve shivers, letting out a broken sound and parting his lips hopefully. Tony accepts the invitation and slips his tongue into Steve’s mouth.

Steve finds it incredibly soothing, even more so when Tony’s hands find his tied wrists and rub them gently. The cuffs are so high-tech that it’s near impossible to get bad blood circulation wearing them, and Tony knows that too. It’s more of a way to check in, and it doesn’t fail to make Steve smile.

”You’ve been good, haven’t you?” Tony says, turning Steve’s head so that he can kiss his way down his throat. ”You deserve a reward, right?”

”Please, sir”, Steve breaths. 

Steve doesn’t have to say more than that. In one swift movement, Tony has pushed him onto his stomach again and taken a firm grip of his hips, pulling him to his knees. Steve takes a ragged breath, his body ready, so ready for anything Tony will give him. He can feel Tony’s breath on his skin, where the skirt hides every part of Steve that yearns to be touched. Then the skirt is lifted up, and Steve trembles with anticipation, hardly able to contain himself. Tony touches him, and Steve almost pulls away just because he’s so on the edge. But Tony forces his hips to their place, ghosting the cleft of his ass with a finger. 

“Perfect”, he hears Tony whisper, and then the strings are being pulled to the side, all of Steve exposed. Steve can’t find it in him to be embarrassed at this point – instead, he struggles not to push his ass backwards, closer to Tony’s face – 

And then Tony’s mouth is on him, his tongue drawing a line that follows Steve’s perineum up, and Steve shudders, his mind going blank, a filthy moan leaving him. But Tony stops just before his hole and steers his mouth to his ass cheeks instead, nipping them one after the other. Soon his tongue continues to tease downwards again, brushing the edges of where Steve wants it, teases and teases but doesn’t go quite there. When Tony mouths his cheeks again, a hungry snarl rumbling out of his throat, Steve whimpers, his breath short, and he just wants _so_ much that his legs shake with need. He’s just about to break and beg but then there’s a lewd sound of spitting and Steve can feel it running down his crack, towards his hole, and then Tony sucks him right at the spot and Steve moans in relief. 

“Mmh.” Steve can feel Tony humming against him, feel the sound vibrating inside of him. 

Tony gives him a few generous licks, then sucks again, harshly enough to make a loud noise and Steve is nothing but the sensation of that and his burning cheeks (up _and_ down). When Tony’s tongue prods against his rim, Steve can’t control the way it makes him clench, his hole desperate for the invasion. 

”Stay still”, Tony instructs him, slapping his ass. ”Be good now.”

Steve whimpers, his torso slumping to the mattress. Tony kisses his hole, his beard rubbing against his perineum, and Steve can’t, he cannot do it, but somehow he forces himself to. He forces himself to keep himself relaxed, open and inviting as Tony swirls his tongue around his rim. Steve’s cock juts in frustration; it feels too good and his body needs to respond, needs to suck back at the teasing tongue. 

As Tony coaxes the tip of his tongue inside of him again, Steve is so far gone in his ecstasy accompanied deprivation that he wails. 

It’s okay. He can do this. He can. He will not let Tony down; he will control his lust like he’s expected. 

He can’t. Tony’s tongue begins to fuck him and his muscles spasm, his body simply unable to resist the stimulation. 

Disappointment hits Steve as he begins to wait for his punishment. Maybe he could do this if he wasn’t a super sensitive freak. Although, then he’d be the little, ugly runt he used to – 

”You okay, honey?”

Tony’s voice stops Steve mid thought, and he realises Tony has removed his tongue from him. His hand is caressing Steve’s bottom soothingly. 

”Yeah”, Steve manages. ”Just… overwhelmed.”

It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth, and Tony can sense that. He presses his lips to Steve’s lower back, kissing his way up his spine, and Steve shivers. He might have gone to a little too dark of a place for a second there, but he definitely doesn’t want to stop. 

Tony reaches his face, and Steve peeks at him, his face pressed into the pillows. A tender smile greets him before Tony leans to kiss his temple. 

”Tell me what you’re thinking.”

It isn’t an order, but it’s easily the hardest thing Tony has asked him to do during this session. His tone is calm, though, and after a moment of silence Steve finds the courage to be honest. 

”That it shouldn’t be so hard for me to obey”, he says, looking Tony into the eyes. 

If Tony feels any discomfort hearing this, he doesn’t show it. Steve’s glad. 

”Why do you think it’s hard?”

It’s very like Tony to ask the right questions. Steve hesitates a little before answering. 

”It’s because I am how I am –”

”Perfect?” Tony asks instantly, a warm grin on his features. 

Steve can’t help the stupid blush that creeps up his neck. What is he supposed to say to that?

Tony’s hand travels slowly down his back, lifts up the skirt and palms his ass again. 

”You _are_ perfect, Steve. And not because of the serum, but because you are you. I’m not gonna lie – the serum has made you look as perfect outside as you are inside, but –”

Tony kisses him on the cheek, his finger teasing at Steve’s hole. 

” _you’d be my bitch anyway, baby_ ”, he whispers, pushing his finger inside gently. 

Steve moans, unable to look away from Tony whose eyes study him intensely, lips parted in wordless appreciation. 

”Does it feel good, sweetheart?” Tony prompts him. The answer is quite clear on Steve’s face and Tony’s obviously just seeking to hear it. 

”Yes”, Steve tells him eagerly. He’ll say anything, do anything as long as Tony doesn’t stop. Besides, Tony deserves to hear it. ”Yes, sir.”

Tony grips his hair roughly and Steve lets out a noise before Tony’s tongue slips into his mouth, his finger rocking harder inside. 

Groans demand to push out of Steve and break the kiss, but he fights to keep feeling Tony’s tongue against his own, the sensation making his nerves light up like a million fireflies, until Tony’s finger hits his prostate and he’s suddenly coming. Unable to suppress the noises anymore, Steve ends up whining loudly against Tony’s lips as Tony hits the spot again and again for him, the orgasm shattering all of the tension that’s been building up inside Steve into a powerful, euphoric stream of pleasure. 

He feels like he beams as he begins to come down, his eyelids parting to reveal Tony giving him and his come-face an open-mouthed, satisfied smirk. Steve offers him back a grateful smile, not even conscious of how his body still insists on moving lightly against Tony’s finger.

”Thank you, sir”, he says sincerely, and Tony presses his lips gently to his cheek before he rams his finger mercilessly against his prostate. Steve’s muscles jerk violently, the abuse on the over-sensitised spot making his hips escape towards the mattress, his wrists tensing in the ties. The reaction, made complete by a suffocated wail from him, only makes Tony grin wider. But then he’s already making up for his jerk move, pulling his finger out and caressing Steve’s lower back soothingly, kissing his neck tenderly. 

”I’ll let that slide just because it was so fucking cute”, he says, petting Steve’s hair in passing as he moves back behind him. ”But from now on you’ll be good, right?” he asks, more an order than an actual question. 

”Yes, sir. Thank you”, Steve mumbles, gathering himself back to his knees for Tony and dismissing the pull his body feels towards the sheets. It helps that despite his orgasm Steve still feels needy, just in a slightly different way now. But it’s not his place to want – he takes what he’s given. 

He feels like melting when Tony blows air onto his skin, his hands holding him in place by the hips, before placing a light kiss onto his tailbone. The kiss tickles a bit, but Steve has no trouble following the instructions and staying in place now. Well, a little when a hand moves underneath him and grabs his still half-erect cock through the come-soaked fabric of the strings.

”Aw, what a mess, sweetie”, Tony says, beginning to pull the strings off. Steve’s grateful to get rid of them, although most of the mess is actually on his stomach and the sheets since his cock had forced itself out of the tiny underwear. 

”Legs more apart”, Tony orders when he’s got the strings off of Steve, and Steve does as told without thinking, widening the gap between his knees. 

The bed shifts as Tony leans back. Steve can’t see him, but Tony’s words confirm his guess right; Tony’s admiring. 

”Look at all that”, he muses. ”God I love your ass.”

Despite the blush that creeps onto his face, if Steve could somehow present himself even better, he would. Every cell in him seems to be aware of Tony’s eyes on him, of the fact that he is staring straight at his most intimate places, but in this setting, he also feels that Tony simply has the right. In a way, his body doesn’t belong to him here, it belongs to Tony, and it’s freeing. He is also not a weapon, a super soldier here, he is a human with human needs and flaws and fears. These are things that Tony not only allows him but recognises in him here, and for that, Steve is more grateful than he could ever put into words. 

As Tony’s hand lands lightly on his skin again, Steve lets out a little, eager hum. He’s desperate for Tony to fuck him, to be rough with him, but again, it is not his place to want. It seems he might be in luck, though, because next, he hears Tony open the lube and soon Tony’s finger is entering him again, gentle now. 

“You’re so perfect, all that perfect porcelain and pink skin, all that muscle”, Tony mutters as he works his finger slowly in and out teasingly. “You know what?” he asks, his voice like honey, his free hand caressing Steve’s lower back. “I think you know it. I think you know exactly how you make me feel, Steve.”

Steve makes a little choked sound at the playful accusation, unsure if he’s meant to answer. It isn’t true, though, and for a while he loses himself into the thought, even though he knows it’s just play talk. 

“Answer me”, Tony prompts, rolling his finger unhurriedly against Steve’s prostate. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he tries to think of what to say. 

“I… I don’t know, sir”, he mutters lamely in the end. 

“You don’t know? Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you see?”

“Myself”, Steve tells him, and he’s not trying to be Captain Obvious here, he just simply doesn’t know what else to say. ”I don’t know whether I like it or not. I don’t hate it.”

Tony’s finger stops moving, and he pulls it out. Shit, Steve thinks, worrying that his answer has displeased Tony. 

“Is that so?” he muses. “That’s not good.” 

His voice is more thoughtful than displeased, but Steve still mumbles an ”I’m sorry, sir” to him. 

“Don’t be sorry”, Tony corrects him. “We can fix it.” 

Before Steve has too much time to wonder what Tony means, he feels the weight shift on the bed as Tony gets up from it. 

“Ties open”, his voice commands, and the cuffs around Steve’s wrists click open, leaving him free to move. Or he would be, if it wouldn’t be under Tony’s jurisdiction in any case, ties or not. 

Tony walks in front of the full-length mirror in the room.

“Come here”, he orders simply.

Steve can see where this is going. He isn’t sure how he feels about it, but he obeys nevertheless, walking to Tony with slightly wobbly legs. 

”Show me your wrists”, Tony says, and Steve’s heart flutters as Tony takes his wrists and quickly observes them for any marks. Then he snaps his fingers, pointing towards the floor. 

“Get on your knees in front of the mirror.”

As Steve settles into the position, he feels a little weirded out by his own image in the mirror, even without the corset. He still has the skirt and the stockings, and his chest is glistening slightly from the massage oil earlier. He turns his eyes towards the floor, but Tony steps behind him and takes a hold of his jaw, pulling his face back up. 

“Look”, he says firmly, and Steve meets his eyes in the mirror, the dark glimmer in Tony’s eyes making his insides twist excitedly. Then Tony kneels behind him, leans close to his ear. “Not me. Look at yourself, Steve.”

Steve stares into his own eyes, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to see. 

“Good”, Tony approves, his breath warm against Steve’s ear. “Look at those baby blue eyes. Do they look innocent to you?” 

Steve swallows. He doesn’t stop to consider. 

“No”, he answers truthfully. “No, sir.”

“See”, Tony starts. “This is what you don’t realise, Steve. To me, those eyes look pure. Innocent. Even when I see them looking up while my cock is slipping in and out of your pretty mouth, they look innocent. Do you have _any_ idea how intoxicating that is?”

Steve risks a small, lopsided smile. 

“I’m not innocent, sir.” Tony can’t possibly think that about him.

“I’m not saying you are, I’m saying that you look like it. Even now, here on your knees with that slutty skirt on”, Tony clears calmly. “That’s the best part. That is what everyone sees when they look at you, Steve”, he continues, his hand coming round to slip underneath the skirt to caress Steve’s thigh, his teeth brushing Steve’s ear. ”But only I get to see you like this.”

For this, Steve has an easy answer. 

”I want only you to see, Tony.”

He’s wrong to expect praise for his words, though, and he realises his mistake a little too late. Tony shakes his head slowly, meeting Steve’s eyes in the mirror. Then he yanks Steve’s head backwards roughly by his hair, and Steve winces, the pull nearly pushing tears into his eyes.

”What did you call me?” he whispers, his mouth still right next to Steve’s ear, and Steve can _feel_ every syllable as they translate into information through his ear.

”Tony”, Steve grunts. 

Tony hums in affirmation. ”And is that how we play?” he asks, tightening his grip even more. Steve gasps painfully. 

”No”, he answers, his eyes now wetting from the pain. ”No, it isn’t. I call you ’sir’. I’m sorry, sir.”

Tony stares straight into his eyes for a moment, his face hard to read, before he lets go. 

”This is exactly what I mean”, he says then, grabbing Steve’s jaw again and turning his eyes back to the mirror. 

”Do you have any idea how hard it is to punish you when you look like this? When you look at me with tears in those eyes?”

”I’m sorry, sir.”

”I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to do your best to behave, so that I don’t have to punish you. You don’t want to make things hard for me, do you?”

”No, I don’t, sir.”

”Good. That’s good”, Tony reassures him, allowing his voice to soften a little. His other hand is still on Steve’s thigh, and he moves it closer to Steve’s crotch. 

”Now I’m gonna show you something incredible”, he croons. ”On all fours.”

His words charge Steve with anticipatory energy, and he complies eagerly; he’s been waiting for so long. Finally, Tony’s going to give him what he wants, to fill him –

Disbelief forms onto Steve’s features as he watches Tony get up, walk to the closet, and produce a whip from inside of it. 

Tony turns to look at him with an expression that reveals to Steve that he knows exactly how long they have been at it already, that he is drawing it out on purpose just to make Steve more desperate. 

”Don’t look so disappointed, sweetie”, Tony tells him briskly, his fingers admiring the leather of the whip, and Steve forces his face to go back to neutral. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy whipping, it’s just that he needs Tony inside of him like yesterday. 

”This isn’t a punishment”, Tony continues as he takes position. ”Do you understand?”

”Yes, sir.”

The whip touches Steve’s back lightly, the tip of it traveling down his spine until it reaches his tailbone. Tony uses the whip to push the skirt up so that it isn’t covering Steve’s ass, leaving it bare again.

”I want you to look at yourself while I do this”, Tony instructs. Steve had been ready to hear that, but it doesn’t make it any more comfortable to do it when the whip lands on his ass for the first time. But Steve keeps his eyes on himself, watches how his mouth opens into a quiet gasp, how his brows knit closer together. 

Tony hits him for a second time, for a third and fourth, slightly changing his angle every time, until Steve lets out a throaty noise. 

”I’m quickly realising that we should always do this like this”, Tony says, and Steve’s eyes wander onto him for just long enough to see his lips curving devilishly. ” _I_ can see you so much better like this.”

Steve doesn’t have the time to reflect on Tony’s words, because the whip lands on his bottom again and this time the hit is harder, his nerves prickling angrily from the impact. He hisses through his teeth, but manages to stay otherwise silent.

“Look”, Tony prompts, his voice hardly audible. “This is my favourite part. The point where you’re clearly starting to lose your composition, but you’re still trying so hard to keep yourself in control.”

Steve looks at himself, and sure enough, he can see the strain on his features. His muscles are tense, all over his body, and he can’t relax them quick enough before the whip lands on his skin again. 

“You always fight it. I love it.” Tony’s voice reaches to him from a distance, but it is harder and harder to concentrate on it as Steve is whipped again and then again, so many times that he eventually stops being aware of where the count is. His forehead is beginning to moisten from sweat, but he’s still relatively quiet, his gasps of pain accompanied by only the tiniest of broken hums. 

“ _Now_ ”, Tony’s voice points out, the whip halting again. “Two, three hits and you’ll scream for me.”

Steve glances at Tony standing behind him. Even completely naked, he looks powerful, in control, and Steve’s mouth waters as he glances at Tony’s cock hanging between his legs and imagines it inside of him. He wants to speak, to plead; not for Tony to stop, but to give him more, be it pain or pleasure. Just to give him anything that he is willing to give. 

“You’re staring, honey”, Tony remarks lightly. “Don’t lose focus.”

The whip starts going again, and Steve’s whole body sings. Tony is entirely correct on his estimate; on the third hit Steve finally yelps, not too loud but nevertheless. Tony gives him a small smirk.

“Like a clockwork”, he mutters, obviously pleased. “But lets not stop while we’re having so much fun.”

Steve expects to get another hit onto his ass or thighs, but Tony moves to his side and the whip lands on Steve’s arm instead, making him whine painfully. A few more slashes follow the first, and it stings so nastily that Steve’s arm almost escapes the whip against his will. 

Tony allows him to take a steadying breath before he gets round him and moves onto his other arm, giving it the same treatment. It burns, but Steve stays on his hands and knees, his face turning more and more pained in the mirror. His arms shake slightly, and Steve isn’t sure himself if it’s from pain or need. 

Despite him surely noticing the tremor, Tony doesn’t gift Steve another pity break. Steve would lie if he said that he doesn’t love that, even if it means that he has to once again watch his own face twist with a grimace as Tony then hits his shoulder blade, his aim surgically precise to avoid any harmful damage as always. As the whip bites into his other shoulder, Steve cries out loudly, the sting seeming to travel everywhere through some nerve. 

”God”, Tony muses, sounding like he’s in awe. ”Did you see that?”

Even though he tried, Steve honestly can’t say he did because his eyes fell shut from the pain.

”No”, he breathes out shakily. ”I’m sorry, sir.”

”That’s okay”, Tony tells him, moving behind Steve again. ” _I see you._ ”

At this, Steve can’t help his gaze from escaping onto Tony’s eyes, which stare readily back like they can see right through Steve. Something gets stuck into his throat and he can’t look away. 

”Do you think you could take a bit more?” Tony asks him, and despite it being a question, Tony’s voice is too sweet to even consider saying no to. 

”Yes, sir.”

”Very well”, Tony says nonchalantly, and before Steve can even begin to expect it, the whip starts going again, sinking into the soft flesh of his ass with force. Tony keeps striking him until Steve’s actually screaming, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room. 

”More?” Tony stops to ask, and Steve couldn’t explain what is it that makes him nod in affirmation. But no one's asking him to explain.

Without any further reassurances, Tony delivers, starting a ruthless rhythm of non-stop strikes, and it hurts, it hurts so much that tears finally begin to roll down Steve’s cheeks. He has no chance of watching his own reactions from the mirror anymore; all he knows is the pain, the high from the endorphins making him dizzy.

Then it’s over. 

”I think that’s enough”, Tony’s voice tells him calmly. 

Steve’s whole body is shaking viciously, and if he’d been struggling to keep his weight on his hands before, now he really has to fight to stay in position. Slowly, he lifts his face up to see himself in the mirror. His face is red from the exertion, and even though the pain is easing every second now, he can’t seem to stop the tears from falling. 

“Thank you, sir”, he says, feeling a tad out of it. 

Tony crouches next to him, his hand coming up to pet Steve’s hair affectionately, and Steve lets his eyes fall shut, wanting nothing but to just lean into Tony’s lap. Tony lets him take a moment, his fingers continuing to comb through Steve’s hair soothingly until the tears start drying on his face. 

“Well done”, he says then. “Look at me.”

Steve complies, letting Tony study his face. He feels warm as Tony gives him a smile, then leans to press a kiss onto his temple. Gently, he then wraps his hand around Steve’s throat, coaxing his focus to the mirror again. His other hand strokes Steve’s back, his gaze soaking up the red marks there sluggishly. 

“This is what I wanted to show you”, he says slowly, turning his eyes back to Steve’s face. “You’re like art, honey.”

Steve supposes that he is meant to see it in the mirror, but he doesn’t. All he sees is his reddened, tear-stained face, and if it makes him feel anything it is shame. There’s no reason to feel that either, though, and deep inside he knows it. 

“You still don’t see it, do you?” Tony observes, and Steve shakes his head. 

He half expects Tony to come up with another show to make him see something that he probably never will, but Tony just keeps staring at him, the corners of his eyes wrinkled in thought, his mouth pursed into an inexpressive line. Eventually, it starts to make Steve feel self-conscious, but he doesn’t dare to look away. 

”A shame”, Tony says finally, his features warming into a smile. ”It’s fucking beautiful.”

He sounds so genuine, and perhaps Steve cannot see what he sees, but he can hear it in Tony’s voice. 

”Thank you, sir.” He offers Tony a cordial look. 

Tony’s hand travels all the way down to Steve’s ass, and Steve sighs as his tender flesh is caressed. His body feels starved for affection, and it submits under Tony’s soft touch. He feels spent from all the hits he’s been taking, all the self-control he’d fought to keep before, and he’d be lying if he said that he isn’t hoping that Tony will end his wait soon. But he trusts that Tony knows what’s best for him, just like he always seems to. 

Steve’s thoughts are stopped by Tony’s fingers lightly stroking his lower lip, and for once, Steve’s reflex isn’t to look at Tony. Instead, he looks into the mirror, watches how his mouth parts to suck Tony’s fingers inside in an openly filthy manner. It makes him feel weird, but at the same time, it’s mesmerizing. He wants to look, he realizes, a giddy feeling settling onto his stomach, and he doesn’t understand what Tony has unlocked in him, but suddenly he can’t tear his eyes away. 

Tony’s fingers fuck his mouth lazily, his finger pads pressing lightly against his tongue, molding his lower lip out of shape as they draw out and then back in again as Steve sucks them, blinking slowly at his own reflection. 

“That’s it”, Tony states quietly. “Good boy.”

Steve feels a rush at Tony’s words, his cock twitching with interest. And he knows, he knows from Tony’s tone that he has been good, that he deserves this. When Tony’s fingers leave his mouth, Steve finally turns his eyes to him. Tony doesn’t notice, his focus on the fingers that he presses against Steve’s entrance. Steve takes the opportunity to savor the sight openly, the way Tony’s all focused on his body, how his mouth parts a little as he prods his finger inside. 

That’s all that Steve can press into memory before he has to look at himself again, take note how a small moan pushes out of his throat. Because his spit is the only lubrication, it burns a bit, but Steve is so far beyond caring about that. Tony begins to carefully stretch him with purpose and all Steve can do is watch. 

The color starts to rise back to Steve’s cheeks as Tony keeps going, soon adding a second finger. His other hand is still around Steve’s throat, and Steve realizes that he has started to lean into it, that Tony’s partly holding his weight from slumping forward. Immediately, Steve’s eyes flick up to Tony’s bicep, to see how the lines of the muscles in his arm stand out from the strain. He stares, completely taken by it until he hears Tony chuckle huskily. 

Steve blushes at being caught with probably very obvious lust on his face, and Tony presses his fingers around his throat a little tighter, his thumb stroking the skin. 

“That’s adorable”, he says fondly, and Steve swallows, a quick, self-deprecating smile flickering over his features before his face relaxes into a moan as Tony pushes his fingers demandingly against his prostate. He starts rocking them back and forth, and Steve squirms around his fingers, feeling his cock leaking pre-cum to the floor in response. 

Then Tony stops, slowing down as he leans down to press a kiss onto Steve’s hair before pulling his fingers out entirely. 

Steve is left to hold his weight on his own as Tony gets up to fetch the lube from the bed. Although Tony had only held his weight partly, it’s still uncomfortable after all that his body has endured tonight, and Steve could cry from happiness as he sees Tony snag a pillow with him too. He sets the pillow in front of Steve and Steve looks at him gratefully. 

”You can lie your head down. First, turn so that you can still see the mirror while being comfortable.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He shuffles so that he can see himself when he rests the side of his face down, then does just that, slumping against the pillow. It feels like heaven, just his muscles being allowed the rest. Sure, he has extremely high endurance, but that doesn’t mean that he enjoys prolonged strain. The pillow is soft and cool against his skin and he closes his eyes for a second, letting out a relieved sigh. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’ve earned it”, Tony tells him as he kneels behind him. His hands massage Steve’s sides and back, and from this angle Steve can see everything so well. He can see Tony’s hands moving on his skin firmly, see the skirt and the stockings, and all of the self-consciousness that came with them just isn’t there anymore, he couldn’t care less. He can see his own cock peaking from under the skirt, heavy and wet. 

It’s perfect. He loves all of it, everything that he is seeing.

Tony gives himself a few strokes, and Steve watches his motions with hungry eyes, emitting a needy whine. He hopes that Tony doesn’t want him to beg, because he’s not sure if he has it in him to beg. He’s more a puddle than a man at this point. 

After lubing himself up, Tony lifts the hem of the skirt up and Steve nearly chokes at how fucking hot it looks, Tony’s cock hard and ready right at his entrance, the fabric of the skirt gathered up from the way. It seems he’s not the only one enjoying the sight, because Tony’s hand grabs his hip, his fingers pressing hard into the skin. 

“Fuck”, he mutters, and Steve doesn’t miss the subtle grin that flashes across his face. He slides his cock against Steve’s hole and Steve hums unsteadily, clenching involuntarily in response. This is the part where Tony’ll make him beg if he has decided to do so. 

But Tony just positions himself, his cock poking at Steve as he finally turns his eyes to him. 

“Watch closely, sweetheart. This is my favorite sight in the whole world: your face as I push my cock inside of you.”

And Steve watches. Tony starts entering him and Steve’s mouth opens into a delirious moan, the feeling so perfect, so whole that his eyes threaten to fall closed from the pleasure. But he forces them to stay open, to see the vulnerability on his face as Tony finally, finally gives him what he needs. His moan breaks into another as Tony buries himself to the hilt, his jaw jerking as he nearly breaks into tears at how good it feels. 

“Fuck, that’s perfect”, Tony sighs, groaning as Steve’s hips sway towards him slightly. 

Tony sets a slow pace of thrusts and Steve’s body moves like on its own, catching onto it quickly and beginning to move along seamlessly.

”So fucking tight. Christ”, Tony curses, and if Steve wouldn’t know better he might wonder if it’s a compliment or not. The serum has its perks and this particular one apparently falls into the sub-category of Tony Stark’s personal favorites. 

It doesn’t much matter to Steve as long as Tony’s feeling good, and there isn’t a reason to doubt that with the way he’s currently concentrating on how his cock is slipping in and out of Steve, his lips parted as soft grunts leave him on occasion. But then he lifts his gaze, meeting Steve’s eyes in the mirror, and Steve shivers under his scrutiny. 

”All good?” he asks, just because he is Tony, not really any real concern in his voice. 

Steve hums in affirmation between his moans, unable to muster up any words. Thankfully, Tony doesn’t seem to be expecting them, his smile widening knowingly. 

”Mmh. Having fun?”

Again, Steve answers with a noise, then groans loudly as Tony thrusts into him with more force. 

“Good”, he says matter-of-factly, clearly enjoying himself. But Steve knows that to Tony his own pleasure is always secondary, that what truly gets him off is the knowledge that he is making Steve feel good.

So, Steve decides to try and find his voice after all. 

“Per-“ he starts, faltering as Tony’s cock hits him particularly good, making him whimper. Tony gives his side an affectionate stroke in acknowledgement. 

“Permission to talk, sir”, Steve manages on his second try, and Tony studies him for a few seconds before he answers. 

”Go ahead, honey”, he says, slowing down a bit and making it easier for Steve to talk. 

”Feels so good”, Steve purrs at him. ”Thank you for taking such good care of me, sir.”

Tony’s expression melts at his words, and he reaches down to caress Steve’s hair briefly, to run his hand over Steve’s shoulder blade.

”You’re welcome. You can use my name if you want.”

For an answer, Steve mumbles his name out instantly, just to feel it on his tongue. He likes using Tony’s name. 

”Give me your wrists, Steve”, Tony tells him then, and Steve’s brain can barely tell his arms to do that. Tony pins his wrists together behind his back and picks up his pace again. 

There’s nothing but adoration in Steve’s eyes as he watches them from the mirror, watches how beautifully Tony has him pinned under his control. He truly loves it. It might be _his_ favorite sight in the world. 

As Tony quickens his thrusts furthermore, Steve’s moans begin to morph into small cries. It seems to only fuel Tony more, and he slams into Steve punishingly, grunting in abandon himself. Steve’s body is so wonderfully tired and it feels unimaginably good to have Tony take complete dominance over it, to just be there and lull in pleasure while knowing that it feels good for Tony too. He makes a mental note to be sure to remember his gratefulness when it’s his turn to drive Tony crazy with lust. But right now he can’t even imagine it, his whole world condensing into the feeling of Tony’s cock hitting his prostate over and over again. 

”You are so pretty like this”, Tony tells him, lightening his pace again. He lets go of Steve’s wrists and grabs his ass with both hands instead, squeezing and rolling his ass cheeks firmly as his cock keeps vanishing between them. It looks incredibly lewd and Steve goes weak looking at it in the mirror, his chest heaving at the sensation of Tony’s hands digging into the sore skin of ass. 

”Tony”, he breathes out, as it is pretty much his only remaining, coherent thought. His face is pushing deeper into the pillow every time Tony’s hips meet his ass, and distantly, Steve notices that the pillow is damp. He has drooled onto it while moaning, and even though he doesn’t really care what he looks like at this point, it feels slightly uncomfortable. Steve gathers the strength to rub his face dry into the pillow and then _swallows_ his mouth empty for a change before he slumps his head back down.

”Do you want me to touch your cock?” Tony asks leisurely before pulling out almost entirely and then sinking back slowly, so good and deep that Steve just whimpers pathetically, his walls clinging onto Tony’s cock. He doesn’t want Tony to be focused on anything else than massaging him senseless with his cock, and thus he mumbles a breathless ”no”. 

”All right”, Tony acknowledges, his lips beginning to curve into a mischievous smile. He slaps Steve’s ass harshly, his other hand holding Steve in place by the hip and making sure that he doesn’t escape from his cock. Steve gasps loudly, but instead of pulling away he pushes towards Tony’s hips hungrily, his eyes going half-lidded in bliss. Tony looks satisfied with this, and he takes an even tighter hold of Steve’s hips with both hands, beginning to fuck him with intent and soon, he’s drawing out unrestrained, almost continuous whining and moaning from Steve. He’s more moving Steve back and forth on his cock than pushing into him, and he obviously relishes in Steve’s pliantness. 

“Mmh. You’re so far gone, aren’t you, baby?”

Steve only mewls in response, clenching around Tony’s cock as he feels the knot of pleasure in his stomach tightening. He can hardly feel his limbs; he feels wonderfully detached from his body, and if he’d be asked to suddenly stand up now, he wouldn’t know where to start. Luckily he doesn’t have to worry about such things, because he’s in Tony’s hands and he knows that it’s safe for him to just let go entirely.

“Think you’re gonna come just from my cock?” Tony asks. He’s starting to sound rather breathless, too, his hips snapping more and more demandingly against Steve’s ass on every thrust and producing lewd, wet sounds in the process. Steve nods enthusiastically at his question, already knowing that there’s no doubt whether he’s going to come or not. He’s so close, each hit of Tony’s cock against his prostate already setting his nerves on fire, making his thoughts turn into complete mush. 

“That’s sweet, honey”, Tony tells him. “You’ve been – ah”, he pauses as Steve clenches tightly around him, a shaky groan rising from his throat – “you’ve been good, baby.” He runs his hands lovingly along Steve’s sides, his hands tender and the look on his face more than little possessive, and Steve’s body rocks back against him on its own, his toes curling as he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His cock is leaking desperately to the floor and Steve’s mind goes blank as it catches his eye. 

“I think I told you a little lie earlier.”

Steve tries to focus his senses into understanding what Tony’s talking about, but Tony’s pace gives him no mercy. He slaps Steve’s ass again, his pace almost in the realm of ruthless now and the pressure is gathering inside of Steve, blocking everything else from his comprehension as the noises leaving him fill the room. 

“I said my favorite sight was your face when I enter you, but look at yourself now, Steve”, he tells, his voice unfaltering even though he’s out of breath. “Look at yourself when I make you come, Steve.”

With the last remains of his cognition, Steve forces himself to meet his own eyes in the mirror. With a few more hard thrusts Tony’s bringing him over the edge, and as Steve wails so loudly that he’s practically screaming, beginning to spill all over the floor, Tony slows down to draw his orgasm out with long enough thrusts to make him insane. But Steve feels no shame at how his face twists from the white, perfect heat that takes over his body and mind completely, no shame about the wetness that pushes into his eyes just because it feels so _good_. He shudders violently, his ass throbbing around Tony’s cock. 

“That’s it”, Tony tells him, sounding more than a little hurried now. “That’s it – oh, jesus, Steve”, he falters and then his hips are getting out of control, slamming jerkily against Steve until Steve can feel his come filling him, the warmth of it leaving him feeling perfectly spent and used as the intensity of his own pleasure slowly begins to subside. 

Although he’s already been pretty much there just taking it, resigning himself into not much else than a hole for Tony to fuck into, Steve still finds a drop of strength to let go of in his body as Tony grabs him by the waist and lowers both of their weights to the floor. Tony’s hips still twitch infrequently as he presses his forehead against Steve’s back, breathing raggedly.

“Fuck”, Tony mutters quietly, because that’s what he more often than not does, and Steve registers it with a hum. After that it’s silent for a long time, and Steve simply wallows in the high and the haze, his body loading his brain up with dopamine. 

When some sense starts to come back to Steve, he bends his hand back to rub Tony’s shoulder briefly. 

”Thank you, sir”, he says, the ”sir” now rolling from his tongue more jokingly than anything else. 

At first Tony just grunts sleepily, but then Steve feels him lift his head and press a kiss onto his shoulder blade. 

”Good?” 

”Amazing”, Steve says earnestly, his voice a little slurry. ”I feel amazing. Seriously, thank you, Tony.”

Tony answers with a pleased hum. After a few more idle minutes, he lifts himself up, pulling carefully out of Steve. 

”Do you want to take a shower?”

Steve can’t say that he really does, the mere thought of standing on his own two legs seeming like an annoying concept at the moment. 

”No”, he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. Tony pinches his butt. 

”A bath, then.”

Steve considers for a while, then gathers himself slowly onto his knees. He leans his back against Tony’s legs and Tony leans down to kiss his hair. 

”I’ll wash you”, he says gently, stroking Steve’s hair back, and Steve couldn’t possibly love him more. 

”I love you”, he says droopily, looking up into Tony’s eyes. 

”I love you too, silly.”

They take their bath, Tony saturating Steve with after-care even though he already feels like the most cared for person in the world. When they finally get to bed, Steve snuggles as close to Tony as possible, wrapping his arm over him. 

”I’m so lucky”, he whispers, pressing a kiss onto Tony’s cheek before hiding his face into the dip of his neck.

”High is what you are”, Tony points out amusedly, his fingers absently playing with Steve’s hair.

Sure, Steve knows that these sessions can get him as close to feeling drunk as he can get, but he doesn’t see how that matters. 

”I don’t see your point”, he mumbles against Tony’s skin.

It’s not like the knowledge is going to stop him from caressing Tony affectionately and whispering sweet nonsense into his ear until the wonderful all over exhaustion finally overpowers him. In his opinion, Tony deserves all of it and more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying BDSM series but also like
> 
> _BDSM series_


End file.
